


Tomorrow, Today Will Be Yesterday

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine in the future, when our now is their past.</p><p>futurefic, but spoilers assumed through the end of season 3 just to be safe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow, Today Will Be Yesterday

_Then, every brush and touch of their hands had meaning. Every time they walked down the hallway with their hands linked, every time they twined their fingers together as they smiled into each other’s eyes, every time they slid their hands into each other on top of a table was important, sometimes dangerous, and always a moment of deliberate connection._

Now, it’s Blaine’s hand reaching out to tug Kurt down the aisle in Whole Foods as he says “No, the good crackers are over this way; let’s get those first.” It’s Kurt’s fingers latching onto Blaine’s wrist so they don’t get separated as they make their way along the crowded subway platform at rush hour. It’s strolling through a street market, an enormous bouquet of flowers for their kitchen table resting in Kurt’s far elbow while Blaine drifts absently at the end of the tether of their linked hands to browse at the stalls they pass. It’s Blaine grabbing and squeezing Kurt’s hand while out at dinner because he’s just so excited about something that happened and then not even thinking of taking his hand back as he keeps talking. It’s their fingers finding each other like magnets on Kurt’s thigh or Blaine’s stomach as the two of them curl up together in front of the television after a long day.

_Then, every kiss was a challenge to the world and a promise to each other. In private, kisses were affirmations of their feelings, steps in the dance of comfort and passion they were learning together, and quiet (or not-so-quiet) moments where they both could let themselves be the teenagers they were. In public, they were risks that came with their own reward of soft, warm lips that didn’t always outweigh the worries of the problems that being so outwardly expressive could bring them. Every kiss was, in some way or another, whether enjoyed during a lush afternoon together alone or rationed out carefully in front of the rest of the world, a deliberate slap in the face to everyone who thought that they couldn’t or shouldn’t be in love._

Now, it’s a quick, dry peck by the door of the apartment before the first one leaves. It’s a longer slide of mouths and tongues when Kurt waits at home to greet Blaine when he knows it’s been a bad day. It’s a bright, laughing, alcohol-sweet smooch at midnight on New Year’s in among the hundreds of thousands of other revelers converging on Times Square. It’s a soft promise of a kiss on the dance floor at a friends' backyard reception when the night is nearly over. It’s a respectful but giddy press of the lips in front of all of their friends and family at their own wedding. It’s a brush of Blaine’s mouth against Kurt’s cheek when he slides out of the booth to get another round for the table. It’s a congratulations backstage for a good show, it’s a happy “Hi, I’m surprising you with lunch at work!” greeting, it’s a “Let’s go home and be alone” at the end of a long night out, and it’s a half-yawned good night as they sort out which way they want to arrange their tired bodies under the covers.

_Then, mornings were a time of excitement. They were for texts to say “Good morning! <3” and “See you at my locker?” They were five extra minutes of primping to make sure every detail was perfect before the first encounter and impression of the day. They were quick coffee dates before school, smiles after homeroom, and the promise of a whole day ahead of sightings in the hallway, lunch in the cafeteria, singing in Glee, and afternoons full of friends, homework, and each other._

Now, mornings are the start of a day apart thanks to work, rehearsals, and appointments. Mornings mean Kurt scrambling egg whites while Blaine gulps down his coffee. They are for quick, solitary showers in their too-small bathroom and bumping shoulders at the mirror while they do their hair. They’re “Kurt, have you seen my phone?” and “Blaine, are you seriously wearing my new scarf?” They’re “Have a good day” and “Break a leg” and “The dry cleaning ticket is on the fridge.” They’re Blaine listening to Kurt rush around getting ready and sighing with regret the minute Kurt is out the door because the bed is comfortable and Blaine is tired enough to fall back asleep, but he’d really rather not be doing it alone. They’re a barefooted Kurt stopping Blaine at the door when it’s his day to rush out, adjusting Blaine’s tie and the lapel of his jacket before pronouncing him suitably perfect and sending him out into the world with a kiss. Sometimes, but not often enough, mornings are also lazy cups of coffee over the paper in bed and muzzy-headed nuzzling beneath the duvet in the dim light of dawn, but every day there is a moment, sometimes drawn out like a song and others as fast as a blink, where Kurt and Blaine smile at each other, in the mirror, in the kitchen, as the door is closing between them, and feel that old thrill of seeing each other first thing once more.

_Then, nights were a time of sadness and parting. Their evenings together over dinner, at a play, or sitting out under the stars were magical, but they always had to end. Every night meant fevered, desperate kisses growing ever more reluctant and aching until the very last minute before curfew. Nights meant having to pull apart, let go, walk away, put doors and miles between them, and be alone and apart. They meant sleepy conversations in bed, phones cradled to ears, neither one wanting to be the first to admit defeat to fatigue and sever the tie between them. They meant a soft, sad “I’ll see you tomorrow” and “I love you; sleep well.” They meant the silence of an otherwise empty room, a cold pillow, a too-big bed, and a too-lonely heart._

Now, nights are their time. They’re quiet dinners at the kitchen table, the susurration of pages turning and the steady whisper of breath as they focus on their work, and tired smiles from the opposite ends of the couch. They’re nights out with friends with music and dancing, nights in with friends with music and games, nights where one or both of them needs to sink into bed in the other’s strong arms and shut the rest of the world out altogether. They’re Blaine slumping on the couch and saying, “God, I thought this day would never end,” or bouncing in with “I found the best tie when I was out at lunch!” They’re Kurt closing the refrigerator and announcing, “It’s too hot to cook; let’s get take-out and have a picnic on the fire escape.” They’re ever-changing moisturizing routines as Kurt finds new products and techniques. They’re watching their reflections in the mirror while they brush their teeth beside each other with two different tubes of toothpaste because the only way Kurt ever wants to taste the too-sweet mint of Blaine’s is from the inside of Blaine’s mouth. Nights are having their own sides of the bed, favorite ways to lie in it, and always, always falling asleep with the other one right there, fit together no matter their position like two perfectly aligned pieces of a puzzle.

_Then, family meant expectations, rules, and time apart. Family was what gave them curfews, told them where they would be on holidays and vacations, and made them both be alert and on their best behavior. It was good manners and doing what they were told. It was why they had to work to find ten minutes to exchange private gifts or why it was so hard to get time alone in general. It was family that pulled them apart for pictures at Kurt’s graduation, even though Burt waved Blaine in for a number of them at the end after Blaine snapped shots of Kurt with Finn and their parents. It was Kurt having to ask his parents if Blaine could come to dinner; it was Blaine having to ask if his parents minded if he went to Rachel’s on New Year’s for her party. It was family that - without a drop of malice - kept them from having Thanksgiving at the same table or Christmas at the same tree._

Now, family is something to share. Family is Burt and Carole calling Blaine to sing him ‘Happy Birthday’ like they do with Kurt. It’s Kurt laughing at Blaine for feeling guilty for slipping into Kurt’s bed beside him in Lima, even though Carole made up Kurt’s old room for them both. It’s Burt’s arm around Blaine’s shoulders when they come to visit New York. It’s Kurt wrapping Blaine up in a hug and whispering sweet words of love into his ear after yet another stilted dinner with the Andersons. Family is Burt getting choked up at their wedding about the three sons he has, and all three young men getting choked up in return. It’s Kurt lecturing Cooper about sunscreen and the perils of aging before his time if he wants a career in Hollywood. It’s Finn and Blaine’s running video game competition every time they’re in the same place, which Kurt isn’t allowed to join in on because somehow he always ends up winning. And family is Kurt holding Blaine’s hand as they pad down the stairs early on Christmas morning in Lima to start the coffee and smiling at each other as they see the big pile of presents for everyone under the tree.

_Then, singing was a way to express themselves when mere words weren’t enough. It was a way to share joy and sorrow. It was a way to have fun. It was a way to flirt and touch without people being too bothered by it._

Now, singing is still all of that for Kurt and Blaine, but it’s also the background of Blaine trying something out on the piano as Kurt chops ingredients for dinner. It’s Blaine smiling to himself as he lies in bed and listens to Kurt singing in the shower. It’s Kurt’s high note going screechy for a second when Blaine _joins_ him in the shower and harmonizes along through his laughter. It’s Kurt’s whisper-soft lullaby as he soothes Blaine’s headache with herbal tea and gentle fingers in his hair. It’s singing at the top of their lungs on a car trip when Blaine puts on his high school playlist and the two of them hold hands on the gear shift and can’t stop grinning over favorite songs and favorite memories. It’s hearing a new song or an old one and serenading the other in the kitchen, in the living room, in the park just because the words say exactly what is in his heart.

_Then, talking was serious. They talked about hopes and dreams, about worries, about each other, about the future, and about the past. They talked about politics, colleges, and how much they wanted from the world. They talked about television shows and drama with their friends, about fashion, food, and frivolity, but even so they talked about it earnestly. They listened carefully to each other, were supportive, and made serious decisions that shaped their future._

Now, talking can be serious, too. There’s always something to consider, whether it’s a new job or a new apartment. There’s always a next step or a fork in the road, another choice or opportunity ahead. But talking is also about whether the drain in the bathroom sink is getting slow again, whose turn it is to get more milk, and where the remote could possibly be hiding this time. Talking is Blaine’s head in Kurt’s lap as Kurt tells him about his day or leaning closer as they chatter over brunch about the new music shop Blaine noticed down the street. It’s the latest gossip about the director of Kurt’s play or the e-mail Blaine got from Mike about him wanting to propose to Tina. It’s “Oh my god, did you _hear_?” and “Would you remind me to do that when we get home, please?” It’s Kurt saving tidbits he knows will make Blaine laugh, and it’s Blaine holding Kurt’s hand on the couch and not hesitating to bare his heart when he’s feeling worried about something. It’s “I’m in the mood for Thai” and “Not that song again!” It’s “I think I want to“ and “How do you feel about it?” and “You know why it’s hard.” Talking is not having to say as much as they used to about the big things, because even when it’s new and terrifying there’s so much they already know about themselves and each other.

 _Then, every argument was a crisis. Every boy who showed interest, every future plan that would put them in different places, every disagreement about how to handle family or friends, every single one felt like it threatened them as a couple. Every time it didn’t just remind them that an ending was possible but that it could happen_ right then _. As much as they loved each other, as much as they wanted it to work, every time it felt like it might not the world seemed darker and shakier until they had found a solution hand-in-hand._

Now, fights are a storm battering the walls of the structure they’ve built around themselves as a couple instead of the waves of the sea eroding the foundations beneath them. Their words can still be dagger-sharp, their hurts deep enough to draw heart’s blood, but if the windows of their relationship shake in their frames and some of the pictures fall off of the walls the floor is mostly steady beneath their feet. Kurt can snap with derision, “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation _again_ , Blaine. You know my answer.” Blaine can pace out his frustration as he says, “He was flirting with you. And you were flirting right back. I was _there_ , and I trust you, but can you please not make me look like a fool in front of everyone I work with?” Kurt can call Blaine insecure or too eager to please other people, and Blaine can call Kurt unfair or too proud to admit he’s wrong, and they can take refuge in their friends until their tempers cool, but beneath it all, despite the pain and the frustration and the anger and the tears, they _know_ that they’ll be okay in the end. They’ve learned that they can patch up the cracks and re-hang the curtains once the storm has passed. And that’s why they fight at all, because they always want to be okay with each other, and there’s no way to get there but to be honest when they aren’t.

_Then, sex was a slow exploration of a huge new world of expression. Every boundary was carefully approached, every new step was slow. And when it wasn’t careful and slow, when it just happened in the moment as it sometimes did, they had to talk and regroup, just to be sure they were both all right. There were more questions than answers: “Is that okay?” “Do you want to?” “Like this?” “Does it feel good?” “There?” “Should I use more lube?” “Sorry, let me try again?” Despite the heat that flared through them both, sex was careful, thoughtful, and deliberate. It was a big deal not just the first time but every time, because it felt significant, important, and emotional. Every time was, because it was them._

Now, they still take care with each other. They’re still important to each other. They still ask what the other wants and watch each other’s signals like a second language only the two of them understand. They still have sex as much for their hearts as their bodies. But sex is also a fast, frantic rutting with pajamas only pushed out of the way so they don’t have to do more than clean up a little before falling asleep. It’s Blaine waking Kurt up early on a potentially lazy Sunday morning with a slow gift of a blow job beneath the covers that puts Kurt right back to sleep before his mind can start going and propel him out of bed. It’s “Faster, come on, Blaine, I won’t break” and “Kurt, you know I love when you do that, but if you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to come and I’m not going to be good for anything” and “There, there, yes, don’t stop, just a little more!” It’s Kurt using every trick he knows - every spot, every angle, every twist of his hand or swirl of his tongue - to make Blaine fall so far apart he can’t put together sentences anymore. It’s the light in Blaine’s eyes - and the answering flare in Kurt’s stomach - when he says he wants to try something new. It’s dirty kisses in the back of a cab and soft ones as they sway to music in their living room. It’s Kurt flirting with Blaine all night on the dance floor because he knows what he’ll get when they get home. It’s Blaine daydreaming all week long about getting Kurt in bed and pressing his mouth to every inch of him. It’s the freedom of having sex wherever and whenever they want in their apartment, in the shower, in the kitchen, against the wall, on the floor, and so much more often on the bed where it’s nothing but soft sheets and warm hearts and them. It’s needy and greedy and slow and soft and deep and rushed and gentle and hot and achingly sentimental and generous and desperate and leisurely and laughter-filled and claustrophobic and emotional and intense and challenging and possessive and familiar and everything in between, because they are all of those things and more to each other, and they never have to be afraid to show it.

_Then, saying “I love you” was an event. The first time, the fifth time, the twentieth time, it sent a tingle of joy up Kurt’s spine to hear it or to say it. It still made Blaine’s heart beat faster because it was so deeply true. It was something precious between them, an affirmation and a promise that no matter how much people told them they couldn’t have love they actually did, and it lit up the world for them._

Now, there are times that it’s still a promise to say ‘I love you’: on days when life seems too big and hard for them to stand up under its pressures alone, in moments of joy when the other is right there sharing it, under that simple white canopy as they exchanged vows and rings. But it’s also a throw-away, a mantra that hasn’t so much lost its meaning as has become the underlying hum of their world. “Have a good day. I love you.” “Sleep well. I love you.” “You made dinner? I _love_ you.” It’s as heartfelt as ever, but it’s just a given, _love-love-love_ thrumming through everything that Kurt and Blaine say and do.

_Then, things were wonderful and new, sometimes complicated but every day drawing the two of them closer together. “I’ve been looking for you forever.” “I’m never saying goodbye to you.” “You’re the love of my life.”_

Now, things are wonderful and not so new, their lives more difficult but their relationship the steady heartbeat that keeps Kurt and Blaine both going through the ups and downs that everyone must face. “Please say you’ll marry me?” “I never want to be without you.” “You’re my forever.”

And as each new today turns slowly into a yesterday, their love and their life together continues on.


End file.
